Sylvia
by LillyGirl
Summary: A "What if . . . ?" piece. Introducing Sylvia Strider, a hunter who needs the brother's help. : My first FanFic.
1. Sylvia

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Except for Sylvia. Who is, for the most part, mine. : ) I hope you enjoy it.**_

Sylvia Strider studied her reflection in the blotchy motel mirror. Two new gashes tore their way down her cheeks, overlapping old scars. She sighed, her amber eyes glinting from where they glared out from under her dark fringe.

Filling her cupped hand with water, she cleaned the wounds. She winced – not at the pain, she could handle that, but because she had failed. It was hard to prize yourself on your hunting prowess when you sported so many new scars every week.

Sylvia's attention was caught yet again by the reflection of her recent kill. A vampire by the rather dubious name of Mitch Slaughter had turned up on her radar when young virgins began to turn up with torn throats, bodies drained of blood. Sylvia had taken care of Slaughter in no time, and now was left with the aftermath.

"Make your target, make your kill, clean up the mess, and then get the hell out," she muttered to herself. Heeding her own advice, she advanced towards the corpse.

She grabbed its head and arms, beginning the slow drag-and-stumble to the door. Despite being made up entirely of tanned muscle, Sylvia struggled with the dead weight.

Eventually, arms burning, she dropped it. It was undeniable – she needed Adrian.

Adrian Strider – her twin brother, her opposite and her partner. He was brute force and charm, she was quiet intelligence and shyness. He walked into a room and had everyone eating out his hand in seconds. She was glared out of every party she attended.

Together, Sylvia and Adrian had made the perfect team – matching blow for blow, destroying when necessary, showing mercy when required.

Together, they were unstoppable.

But now, now Adrian was gone. So simply, and so terrifyingly. Like a ghost into a fog – once there, and then no trace.

Sylvia shuddered.

"No," she said. "No. I am not going to cry."

And then, she was crouching down beside the corpse of a vampire, crying for all she was worth.

_**I have spoken to the next chapter, and it intends to be longer. That's a promise.**_

_**Reviews are, of course, welcome and well loved.**_


	2. Fragile

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Except for Sylvia. Who is, for the most part, mine. : ) I hope you enjoy it.**_

"You're an idiot."

Dean smirked. He could almost hear the eye roll in his brother's voice.

"Dude, you seriously need some new material. 'Idiot' is getting old," Dean quipped back.

There was a silence over the phone line. And then: "I'll be there in a sec."

Dean shut the phone, turning back to the room.

There was blood on the walls, soaking into the carpet. Two crudely massacred bodies lay naked and ripped apart on the floor. They were almost unrecognisable as human beings.

The smirk faded from Dean's face as he once again took in the scene.

"God help me," he sighed. There was no point in waiting around for Sam to show up. He got to cleaning.

_Make your target, make your kill, clean the mess up and then get the hell out of there. Good advice. Unfortunately, I doubt the clever hunter who came up with it had this magnitude of mess in mind. _

Dean was almost finished up when he heard the screech of brakes outside the house, followed by a car door slam and Sam's heavy footsteps. He waited until the door swung open.

"Oh look at that," Dean greeted his brother. "You are just in time to help me with – oh, wait! I've already done everything!"

Sam didn't respond, his face grave. Dean supposed Sam must feel a bit bad about forcing him to clean up such a horrendous situation alone, but secretly, Dean was glad. One less terrible thing to be branded on the back of Sammy's eye lids.

"Oh, don't feel too bad Sammy," he muttered. "There was really nothing for you to do."

There was more silence on Sam's part.

Dean swung around. Sam's face was grey.

"Dude, what's up?"

Sam lifted up his cell, as though it offered some explanation.

"I got a call," he said shakily. "From Sylvia Strider. Adrian's missing."

The Strider's, as everyone in the hunting world knew, were the second best in the business. They would be number one, if it wasn't for the Winchester's. The twins had the sort of bond that was priceless in a team, making some of their kills the stuff of legends. Everybody deferred to them for information and no one would ever dare cross them.

Which is what made Adrian's disappearance so shocking to Sam and Dean.

It would have to be a huge force to have not only made such an amazing fighter vanish, but to separate Adrian from his sister without a word of warning or goodbye.

Sam and Dean sat across from each other in some local diner, where Sylvia had decided to meet. She was fifteen minutes late.

"So, let me get this straight," Dean began. "Sylvia Strider calls you, _Sylvia Strider _calls _you_, and just says out of the blue that Adrian is missing?"

Sam sighed, staring at his hands wearily.

"Yes, pretty much."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Dean. I'm positive. It was her. She was crying, and going on about a vampire, I think. And then she just started yelling that Adrian was missing, and that she thought something really bad was going down."

"And. . .?"

"And then I got her to calm down, and she agreed to meet us here."

"Fifteen minutes ago."

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

Dean withered as Sam positively glared at him.

Any response on Sam's behalf was cut off though by the sudden and silent appearance of a slight, fairy-like girl beside them.

Her dark, almost black, hair was pulled back into a pony tail, with wild curls escaping. Her eyes, almost yellow, darted everywhere, taking in everything at once. She was tiny in every sense of the word – short and so skinny that she would disappear by turning sideways. She seemed absurdly fragile.

Sam moved over in his seat, making room for her tiny figure.

Dean studied her as she moved into her seat, still in silence. She seemed weak, and he began to doubt all the legends. Surely a girl so delicate couldn't be a hunter?

Suddenly, her eyes snapped to his.

"Never judge a book by its cover," she said, in a voice so musical it sounded like singing.

The Winchester's met each other's eyes, and then looked away.

She made them uncomfortable, for two reasons.

The first was the fact that she exuded a faint, but definite, animalism. The way she held her head and studied the room around her with sharp jerking movements, and the way she sat tensed, like a coil ready to spring made her seem birdlike, primitive, like a caged lion.

The second was very simple. Putting aside Sylvia's absurd fragility and tiny figure, she was simply stunning. Her dark hair coiled down to frame a face complete with full lips and large eyes – a face alive with a strange, ethereal beauty.

"So," said Dean, trying to get back to the business at hand. "Your brother?"

Sylvia nodded.

"My brother," she agreed.

Dean and Sam shared another look.

"Where is he?" asked Sam, gently.

"Where is he indeed?" asked Sylvia.

Dean lost his temper.

"Look girl," he spat. "We came here because you asked us. We've been sitting here for half an hour waiting for you to show. When you do, all you can say are stupid repetitions of our questions!"

He was stopped from saying more by a stilling look on Sam's face.

Sylvia, on the other hand, looked livid.

She stared right at Dean for the first time. The fury in her leopard eyes chilled him.

"Look boy," she mimicked sourly. "I've lost my brother. Do you have any idea what that is like? Well, the thing is, I am worried sick about him. So sick that I can't even do my job properly anymore. You, of all people, should understand that."

Her eyes flickered once to Sam, and then away.

She didn't say anything, but the threat, and the meaning, were implicit.

"I need your help. I can't pay you. But you . . . you are the only ones I can turn too."

Sam looked at Dean, nodding slightly.

Sylvia's eyes lost all pretence of anger. Now they were just desperate.

_God help me._

"Okay," said Dean. "When did you last see Adrian?"


	3. Warehouse

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Except for Sylvia. Who is, for the most part, mine. : ) I hope you enjoy it.**_

Sylvia sat in the back of the Impala, twisting her rings around her fingers. First the emerald, then the silver stars, the gold eye, then the ruby. Back to the emerald. They were all very beautiful, very old and very expensive. Sylvia wasn't vain – the rings were her own protection against demons amongst a variety of other things.

She caught Dean's eyes in the rear view mirror and stilled her hands.

There had been silence between the trio ever since Sylvia had divulged all she knew about her brother in the diner. She could tell that Sam, though a little shocked by her appearance, respected her as a hunter. Dean, on the other hand. . .

Sylvia had dealt with people like Dean all her life – people who immediately took one look at her childlike frame and large amber eyes and crossed her off their list of threats. Adrian, with his burly muscles and charm, was often treated like a volatile missile, with no one sure when he would go off. Usually, Sylvia was able to use this mistaken impression to her advantage. No one wanted to beat up a woman that looked twelve, and everyone underestimated her abilities.

Sam accepted her. But to gain Dean's acceptance, she realised that she would have to prove her worth.

After a few more awkward minutes, the Impala pulled up in front of an abandoned warehouse. Sylvia knew the place well, and sighed, her eyes shut. This was the place she had last seen Adrian – the place where he had disappeared.

They were on a hunt together, a rather cranky spirit of an office worker that was slowly killing off his ex-co-workers. It had been an easy, open-and-shut case. Get in, get out. It had gone perfectly.

Sylvia had turned her back to Adrian just for a second, to scrub some off the blood off the walls. She knew that other hunters left the mess they made, but she and Adrian had been brought up to see a job to its utter conclusion – which meant cleaning up. Then she had felt something odd – kind of like a shockwave. There was intense light, a ringing sound that bordered on painful.

And then something had snapped inside her.

She and Adrian had always had a bond that went beyond being twins. They hadn't worked out where it came from yet; only knowing from a psychic their father sent them to that it was something deeply powerful, and vastly strong. It meant that they could sense each other's emotions, and always knew what the other was planning on doing – which came in handy during a hunt. Rarely, they could read each other's thoughts.

The bond was like a constant, small buzzing weight somewhere in Sylvia's chest, and in that moment, it had broken. She had known straight away what that meant. She didn't have to feel Adrian to know that he was in grave danger. She had turned, calling out to him. She wasn't panicking, not at that stage. Adrian was an excellent hunter – he didn't fear much. She had stumbled around in the noise and the light, trying to make out shapes, trying to find him.

Suddenly, a face had appeared before her, blocking out all the light. A man's face, with startling blue eyes.

He said something. Something like I'm sorry, and then vanished, along with the sound and the light.

Adrian wasn't there. He had simply vanished, along with the bond that Sylvia and he had had since birth.

"Uh . . . Sylvia? You there?"

Sylvia weakly opened her eyes to Sam's voice. He had bent around, and was looking at her in concern. Sylvia glanced in the mirror – she was pale, sweating.

"Are you okay?"

She blinked a few times. She hated to appear weak in front of people. It was bad enough that she was forced to find help to find her own twin, and now hear she was, having a full on breakdown in front of said help.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Sam nodded, still concerned, and swung out of the car.

Dean was already standing in the doorway of the warehouse, his back to them. When he heard them coming up from behind, he turned. His face was white.

"Sylvia. What did you say happened here again?"

Sylvia ignored him, pushing around him to look into the warehouse.

They were everywhere. Pinned to the walls, hanging from the ceiling, lying on the ground. Bodies in the hundreds, and of all different kinds. Men, women, children. Black and white. All with their throats cut, expressions of insurmountable terror on their frozen faces.

Sylvia could faintly hear Sam and Dean behind her, arguing softly.

"Dean, we have to help her."

"Sammy, you know I always try to do the best I can . . . "

"But?"

"But this is too goddamn big. I say we back out now."

"Dean. She's in serious danger, and she's a fellow hunter. We need to help her."

"Yeah. Fat lot of good that will do when we wind up dead."

Sylvia zoned them out, focusing on the scene in the warehouse. Something niggled at her, telling her that she wasn't seeing the full picture. Adrian was always the one who looked at the big picture. He was always berating her for looking at the details alone.

"_Sure, the little things might tell us some information, and might tell us things that we didn't know before – important things, but you're missing the point. We need to ask the questions: 'What does that mean?' 'What impact is this going to have?' Look at the sky. What do you see?"_

"_That tree – it's branches have no leaves, and they look like they are trying to strangle the sky. That cloud kind of looks like Pinocchio. That tiny bird – it's wings look like they are on fire in front of the sun."_

_Adrian would chuckle, grin down at her. Sylvia would glare back up. _

She was snapped out of her reverie by Sam's hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, meeting his dark eyes with her massive amber ones. She knew that they scared some people, her eyes, but she also knew they gave her a certain attractiveness that wasn't found in the pages of magazines.

Sam nodded wearily towards the bodies in the warehouse. Sylvia followed his nod to where Dean stood, bending over a body before sniffing and moving on. She walked into the warehouse still certain that somewhere in there was the missing piece she was looking for.


	4. Dreams

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Except for Sylvia. Who is, for the most part, mine. : ) I hope you enjoy it.**_

The tiny hotel room was filled with the sound of Dean's snoring. Sylvia was sitting in the exact middle of the filthy couch she had been assigned to, and was watching Dean and Sam as they slept. She was thinking about the warehouse.

She had scoured it for the afternoon, trying to find the missing piece that her gut told her was hidden somewhere in the masses of bodies. She had imagined Adrian's voice calling her on, trying to show her the bigger picture. But she had failed. Damn, but failure seemed to be hanging around her a lot.

Sylvia sighed huffily and flopped onto her back. Somewhere in the darkness Dean snorted and moved. Sam was silent. The two had fallen asleep almost immediately, after bickering quietly all the way home. Despite the fact that Sylvia desperately needed their help, she still felt bad about coming between the legendary hunters.

Suddenly, she felt extremely alone and afraid. She pushed a hand to her sternum, where once she had felt Adrian as strongly as she felt her own heartbeat. She dug her fingernails into the exact spot until she drew blood. _Adrian _she whispered _Where the hell are you?_

Sylvia was exhausted, and the couch began to feel absurdly comfortable. She turned to her side and promptly fell asleep.

She woke with a gasp. Rolling off the couch and into a crouch on the floor, she pulled out the long, thin knife that she wore on her thigh. She scoped the room slowly, looking for threats. There was nothing there – Dean was still snoring, and now she could see the slow rise and fall of Sam's chest. Everything seemed to be okay.

Sylvia sheathed the knife and crawled back into the nest of blankets she had made on the couch.

It had all been a dream.

_Blood and bodies everywhere, covering everything. All of a sudden, it was too hard to draw breath. The stench of rotting filling her nostrils, putrid. A weak beam of light filtering through a crack in the roof, hitting Adrian where he stood, his back to her. Adrian! Running. A hand on his shoulder, turning him. A slashed throat. Blood. Dead. Dead! Screaming. And then everything disappears, except for a tired man with sleepy hair and startlingly bright blue eyes. His face stern; twisted into an apology. Him leaning over, his lips on her head. And then . . . _

And then she had woken up. For a moment, Sylvia considered waking one of the brothers and telling them about her nightmare. But then she decided against it. It wouldn't improve Dean's impression of her if she woke him at three am to tell him all about her bad dreams.

Instead, she pulled her duffel bag towards her. She had already figured out that she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep that night. After rummaging around for a while, she found what she was looking for – her sketch pad.

Sylvia and Adrian Strider were renowned for the wealth of information they had on all things supernatural. Their journal – similar to that of the Winchester's – was full from cover to cover with not only the most succinct and valuable information but drawings and diagrams that would incite the jealousy of any Art student.

The Strider's had a simple system – Adrian wrote down all the important information they knew when they completed a hunt, and Sylvia drew anything she noticed.

Adrian's writing ability was astounding. More than once Sylvia had longed for something more than a hunter's life for him. With his ability over words, he could be a famous author. Of course, if she ever mentioned it to him, he would turn the argument back on her.

"_Yeah, sure Sylvs. And what about those pictures you draw, hey?"_

But Sylvia had never wanted anything more than to hunt. It was her life – she had accepted that a long time ago. She and Adrian had never discussed it, but she was pretty sure Adrian still had some hope for the future. There was something that came through their bond when she talked about him getting out of the hunter's life – a little buzz of something that he tried to repress but never quite could.

Sylvia pulled two lead artist's pencils out of the metal case in her duffel, and began to draw absentmindedly.

When she came to herself, she studied the pictures she had drawn with widening eyes. Bodies, blood. A warehouse with a weak beam of light. Adrian, dead. And that man, a sad, sorry look on his handsome face, his blue eyes sparkling.

Who was he? And where was Adrian?

After an hour or so of thinking deeply, Sylvia was still at square one. She didn't know the blue eyed man she was dreaming of, but she knew he had something to do with Adrian's disappearance. She didn't know the meaning behind the bodies in the warehouse, but she knew that they had something to do with the blue eyed man. It was a labyrinth of questions and not many answers that was disrupted as Sam began to yawn and stretch loudly. He looked at the clock. Six am. He looked at Sylvia, raising one eyebrow. Sylvia could tell that he knew she had been up all night. Well, practically all night.

He stumbled out of bed, pulled on a shirt and walked wearily to the door, muttering a "Morning. Coffee," as he left. Sylvia nodded, turning back to her sketch pad, and the blue eyed man.

Half an hour passed, and Sam was still not back. Dean suddenly gave a massive groan and appeared upright in bed.

"Sylvia," he stated, nodding curtly in greeting. Sylvia, for some absurd reason, had to stifle a laugh. It was obvious that Sam had told him to play nice, and equally as obvious that Dean still didn't like her.

"Dean," she replied, returning his greeting along with the curt nod. Dean's mouth twisted into a semi-smile despite himself.

"What you working on?" he asked, as he tumbled out of bed, pulling on a shirt. He strode across the room, peering over her shoulder.

"Nothing really," Sylvia began. She suddenly felt embarrassed about the entire night. "Just a . . . just a dream I had last night."

Dean was silent, studying the picture of the bodies in the warehouse, Adrian with his neck torn. He was about to turn the page to the picture of the blue eyed man, and for some reason Sylvia held her breath. She had a feeling that Dean would hold some of the answers she needed.

He turned the page. The room was full of a stony silence.

"Very nice," he said, giving her back her sketch pad. "Where's Sam?"

Sylvia let out the breath she was holding in a giant rush. Nothing.

"He went out to get coffee."

At that exact moment, Sam pulled up in the Impala. Dean and Sylvia listened in silence as his footsteps came up the hall. The door swung inwards and he entered, three coffees balanced delicately in his giant hands.

"Hey. Wow. You decided to get up. Sylvia, I don't know how you take your coffee, so I--"

He was cut off by Dean, who had scooped up Sylvia's sketch pad again, and thrust it in front of Sam's face.

"Sam. You might want to take a look at this. Apparently, she saw this in a dream."

Sylvia scowled. She hated it when people talked about her like she wasn't there, and she disliked the tone Dean was using.

"I did. Last night. I couldn't sleep afterwards and I decided--"

This time, it was Sam doing the interrupting. He had turned to the page with the blue eyed man and was looking at Dean with an expression of shock.

Dean nodded.

"I know."

Sam looked once again at the sketch book, and then back at Sylvia.

"We need to talk."


	5. Arguments

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Except for Sylvia. Who is, for the most part, mine. : ) I hope you enjoy it.**_

Dean and Sam sat opposite Sylvia on the beds. They held their coffees tightly even though they weren't drinking them. Sylvia took a nervous sip of hers, almost spitting it back out.

_Caramel latte. _She thought with disgust. For years now, Sylvia had taken her coffee black, with no milk or sugar. But still, sipping the gross coffee gave her something to do instead of wither under the impenetrable stares of the brothers.

Dean sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, let's start again," he said with a sigh. "How do you know this man?"

Sylvia sighed as well.

"I've already told you. I don't know him. He appeared to me in my dream last night."

Dean stared at her for a few seconds, clearly not believing her. It was infuriating.

"Yeah. Right. So, what did he do? Did he give you any information?"

"No. He just looked at me – he looked sad, somehow. And then he kissed me on the forehead."

Sam and Dean shared a heavy glance. This was new information.

"He kissed you?" It was Sam who asked this time, and his face and voice were incredulous.

_Ah. _Thought Sylvia. _So you do know who he is. _

"Yeah. And then I woke up."

"He didn't say anything?"

Sylvia didn't answer. Instead, she darkened her glare.

"Okay. Okay. He didn't say anything."

Sam turned to Dean.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked. Sylvia stood up as they did, noticing with some annoyance that she just made Dean's shoulder. Not good for the whole "menacing force" approach. Equally annoying was her high bird's voice that people always complimented. Not good when you are trying to pull off angry.

"No," she began. "No way are you guys cutting me out again. I know you know who this man is. And I know he has something to do with my brother's disappearance. I also know that you don't think I should be a part of whatever is going down. Well, I apologise, but I already am a part of it. And whatever you can say to each other, you can say in front of me." She paused, taking a deep breath. "But first, tell me who this blue eyed man is."

Sam sighed. Dean rolled his eyes. But they sat back down anyway.

"This is just a warning," said Dean. "But you aren't going to like this."

"Try me."

"Okay," Dean said, a shrug in his voice. He picked up her sketch pad, pointing to the blue eyed man. "See this dude? Well, his name is Castiel. He is an angel of the Lord."

Sylvia drew a deep breath.

"Angels. No shit."

Sam was scrutinising her.

"You believe us? No outcries of disbelief, no wild protestations? You are just going to believe us like that?"

"You have no reason to lie to me. Besides, if you were lying I would know."

"You would know? How?" It was Dean this time, his voice angry. For a moment, Sylvia considered telling them the truth. She sipped her disgusting latte, twisting her emerald ring around her finger.

"I'm an excellent face reader," she eventually settled for. A half-truth. "Anyways, my parents always used to tell me about the angels. They said that one day, when humankind really needed them, they would come back to Earth and do their bit to save us all. I grew up practically waiting for the day when they would swoop in and save us. Of course, I now know that it doesn't work like that. So, you said that this blue eyed dude is an angel? I believe you."

"Right."

"You don't believe me?"

"No. As a matter of fact, I--"

"Guys, hey!" Sam was looking at Dean anxiously. "I think we need to be asking a serious question here."

"Oh, and what's that? Why the hell we agreed to help out a sullen, entirely uncooperative and dishonest girl? Because I was just wondering that myself."

"No," Sam sighed with impatience, rubbing his head. "We need to know why Castiel is appearing to Sylvia in dreams. And what he has to do with Adrian."

The questions were so obvious that for a moment there was an embarrassed silence.

"Right," Dean said finally. "So what do we do now?"

"We need to go back to the warehouse," piped up Sylvia. "I still feel like we missed something."

"Okay," nodded Sam. "Let's go."

Simultaneously, the Winchester's tipped their coffee cups upside down above their mouths, drinking their entire contents in what seemed like three colossal gulps. Sylvia looked down at her coffee, still three quarters full, and sighed.

The warehouse, despite the increase in stink, was exactly the same as it was the day before. It was almost a letdown. The bodies were still plastered to the walls, floors and the ceiling. Their throats were all still cut. The trio took it all in.

"I don't understand this," stated Sam. "I don't understand who these people are."

Dean grunted in agreement.

"I think the only thing we can say with any safety is that whatever Adrian is involved in, it's big. Big enough to draw angels here, and to . . . well, to cause this." He gestured towards the bodies.

Dean grunted again.

Sylvia turned to them both.

"Whatever Adrian _is_ _involved in_? What does that mean?"

Sam looked away, uncomfortable. Dean answered for him.

"Well, sweetheart, I'm fairly sure your superstar brother 'aint as . . . well, as _angelic_ as you thought. Whatever he was in, it wasn't all that good to lead to this. If I didn't know any better, I--"

He was unable to finish his statement. All of a sudden, he was pinned up against the wall, feet dangling. Sylvia's face was inches from his, her teeth bared, her amber eyes glinting.

"You'd what?" Dean glared but didn't answer. He tried to move, but was stuck. Damn, for such a petite girl, she was strong.

Sylvia's expression grew, if such a thing was possible, more dangerous. Suddenly there was a knife at Dean's neck. _Where the hell did that come from?_ He wondered.

"You'd WHAT?!" yelled Sylvia, her mouth close to Dean's ear. He flinched. Then suddenly, Sylvia was gone, replaced by an angry looking Sam. He turned to where Sylvia lay growling (_Growling??_) on the blood smeared floor.

"Don't touch my brother," he muttered.

Sam turned to help up his brother, only to find him standing on his feet, supported gingerly by a very surprised looking Castiel. Cas wasn't looking at Dean. He was staring at the object of his bewilderment, the tiny female hunter still crouched on the ground.


	6. Something Big

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Except for Sylvia. Who is, for the most part, mine. : ) I hope you enjoy it.**_

_**Also, a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favourite this story. It means a lot to me.**_

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. He didn't know how, but somehow a relatively simple hunt for a lost brother had turned into something huge. Something that he didn't particularly want to be involved in. It was the angels, he decided, that irked him. Life had been so much simpler before the idea of God and the appearance of the angels. Now, it wasn't just a bunch of people Dean had to save – it was the whole freaking world.

He turned to where Sylvia stood next to Sam, highlighted by a beam of light that trickled into the warehouse. She looked like a child from behind, especially next to his giant of a brother. A child with a huge machete clenched in her hand.

Dean didn't like Sylvia on principle. She was just too different. Empathy had made him take up the hunt for Adrian, but now he was seriously regretting his decision. She, despite her tiny frame, was dangerous. He knew that now. Unpredictable, instinctual and animalistic. Not to mention antsy about her brother.

_Why the hell did the angels have to be involved?_ He thought, not for the first time.

He was jolted out of his reverie by the sudden appearance of Castiel at his right shoulder. He sighed heavily, turning to face the angel. Cas was still focused on Sylvia's back, his eyes almost burning into her. He had barely looked away since he had arrived.

"So, what do you think is going on?"

Cas answered without looking away from Sylvia.

"I don't know. Whatever it is, it's definitely something to do with my brothers. The place reeks with their power. And it's strong power too. High up the chain," he nodded towards Sylvia, turning his intense gaze on Dean at last. "Who is she?"

"She," began Dean. "Is Sylvia Strider. A fellow hunter. Sammy and I are helping her out with something."

"Is she human?"

_What the hell?_ "Yes."

Castiel didn't explain, just turned back to Sylvia. She was, for some reason, now staring at the roof, taking careful backward steps. The angel watched the girl for several moments.

"I don't know her," he finally said. Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Well, you might be an angel of the Lord, but I don't expect you to know everything about everyone," he said. "Besides, I doubt you would want to know her."

Castiel ignored his comment.

"No, you don't understand," he said, turning back to Dean. "Even though I am now cut off from Heaven, I still retain some of my powers. One is the ability to know everything about a person by just being told their name."

"Oh. I see. Kinda like Google."

"Google?"

"Never mind. So, what's different about Sylvia?"

"I don't know her. It's like she doesn't exist. When I focus in on her, I just get silence. An absence of life."

The angel's expression grew more troubled.

"What does that mean?"

"I have no idea. But it doesn't seem good."

_Great. Fantastic. _Thought Dean. _This just keeps getting better. _

At that moment, Dean noticed Sylvia and Sam making their way over to where Dean and Cas stood. Dean nudged Cas, who was wearing an expression of intense and utter bewilderment.

"Act natural," Dean told him. Castiel nodded uneasily, changing his expression to a squint, as though he were staring into the sun.

Dean sighed. It was going to have to do.

As they approached, Sylvia sheathed the machete. It went against her instincts, but she didn't want to meet an angel of the Lord with a blood soaked weapon in her hands. Sam, she noticed, followed her lead, sheathing his own weapon. They had just spent a fruitless hour hacking into the dead bodies in the warehouse trying to find anything that might link them together. So far, nothing. All of the bodies were different in some way. They appeared to just be random deaths. They were still at stage one in terms of answering why the bodies were there, why they had died, and who did it.

Sylvia pushed these nagging questions to the back of her mind when she was a few steps away from the angel, and plastered a smile on her face. Castiel had an odd expression on his own face, almost like he was squinting at her. It made her uncomfortable.

"Castiel," Dean said, gesturing to Sylvia. "This is Sylvia Strider, hunter extraordinaire, complete with missing brother."

Something in Dean's tone made Sylvia want to scowl, but she pushed it back and smiled larger. _This is stupid_, she thought. _Why am I trying to impress an angel?_ From what little Sam had told her about them, Sylvia knew that Castiel already knew everything about her.

Castiel awkwardly held out his hand. Sylvia, trying to repress her sudden laughter, held out her hand, took his and shook it. Cas seemed almost proud of himself as he introduced himself.

"Castiel," he said. "Angel of the Lord." He turned to Sam. "Hello Sam," he said with a nod.

Sam nodded back. "Cas."

Sylvia noticed that Castiel was looking at her with a completely confused expression. Dean cleared his throat loudly. Castiel made an "oh" face, and went back to squinting at her.

_Wow._ Thought Sylvia. _Who knew that angels were so socially awkward? _

"Sylvia," said Castiel suddenly. "Who are you?"

_How the hell am I supposed to answer that?_

"Well," she began awkwardly. "I'm 24. I'm a hunter. I . . ." Sylvia broke off, realising that she had nothing more to really say. Hunting was her entire life. She didn't have anything else.

_And why is he asking me this? I thought angels were meant to know everything about people. _

"Oh," she said, remembering how else she defined herself. "I have a twin. A brother. Adrian Strider."

At the name, Castiel's eyes widened. His face paled. She looked to Dean and Sam, and saw that she wasn't the only one who noticed his reaction.

"Cas?" asked Dean. "What's wrong?"

Castiel didn't answer. He kept staring at Sylvia with a horrified expression on his face.

"Castiel?" It was Sam this time, his voice urgent.

Suddenly, the angel shook himself.

"I have to go," he said, not taking his eyes off Sylvia. "There are things I need to do."

Then he was gone.

"Shit!" Dean yelled. "You son of a bitch!"

"Calm down Dean," said Sam. "We can figure this out."

"Yeah? And how do you propose we do that?"

"Let's start by getting out of here. This place creeps me out."

Dean took a few deep breaths before nodding.

"Alright. Let's go back to the hotel."

Dean looked to Sylvia, and the venom in his gaze made her take an involuntary step backwards. Then he turned away. Sam shot her an apologetic look, before following his older brother out of the warehouse. Sylvia took one last look around, and then followed them outside.

She was beginning to realise that her world was changing. When she found her brother, life would never be the same. Something big was going on, and Adrian was somehow smack bang in the middle of it all. More than that, he had left her with absolutely no idea what was going on.


	7. Eternity

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Except for Sylvia. Who is, for the most part, mine. : ) I hope you enjoy it.**_

_**Also, a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favourite this story. It means a lot to me.**_

_**Also, my question mark button is defunct. This information has no real bearing on anything, I just wanted the people who read this to know that every time I hit the '?' I have to whack it about five times. Does anyone know any good question mark button shops?**_

Sam hit the second speed dial on his phone before holding it to his ear. Dean sat in stony silence in the driver's seat, and in the back Sylvia sat twisting her rings. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

"Yeah?" said a gruff voice.

"Hey Bobby. It's Sam."

"Sam! Where have you and your idjit brother been? I've been trying to get in contact!"

"Sorry Bobby. We had . . . things to take care of." Sam looked at Sylvia through the rear-view mirror. He knew that Dean was regretting taking on the job, but Sam still felt sorry for Sylvia. She looked lost.

"What sort of things? Is this some more strange mumbo-jumbo that you two always seem to be getting stuck in?"

Sam sighed heavily. Bobby wasn't far off the mark.

"Yeah. I'd rather not tell you over the phone. We'll be at yours in about three hours. See you there."

Bobby grunted an affirmation and then hung up. Sam looked at Dean, who stared stoically at the road ahead. Sylvia caught Sam's look and turned away, still twisting her rings.

This was going to be a long three hours.

"Heya Bobby," Sam called when they walked into his house.

"Back here boys!" came the call from the direction of the library. The three of them trailed into the room, Sylvia following with a look close to awe on her face. As they entered the library, Sam watched as Sylvia took it in. Her already huge amber eyes widened as she saw the books lining everything. Sam chuckled to himself. He had somehow known she was a bookworm.

"Ah," said Bobby, eyeing the newcomer. "This would be the strange mumbo-jumbo then?"

Sylvia's eyes flashed to his, and to Sam's disappointment, she sneered. For some reason, he had wanted her to make a good impression on Bobby. Out of everyone Sam knew, Bobby would be the one person most likely to change Dean's mind about Sylvia.

"Excuse me?" she asked pertly.

Bobby laughed.

"Forget it," he stood up with a groan. "My name's Bobby. And I'm guessing that your name is Sylvia Strider."

Dean turned from where he was standing, his back to everyone.

"How do you know Sylvia?" he asked.

Bobby looked from Dean to Sylvia and back again. Sam could tell from his expression that just like that, he had read the situation.

"Everyone knows Sylvia," he explained. "She's a bloody legendary hunter. She and her brother Adrian. She's more a legend because she doesn't look like one."

Here he broke off, turning to Sylvia.

"No offence."

To Sam's surprise, the sneer melted off her face to be replaced with a genuine smile. The smile transformed her completely, and he realised that she could be truly beautiful if she wanted to.

"But," continued Bobby, "If you two idjits are travelling in the company of a Strider, than something whacked is definitely going down." He turned to Sylvia. "Where's your brother, sweetheart?"

The smile froze on Sylvia's face, and she frowned sadly.

"I don't know. He's . . . he's gone."

And then, to Sam's complete and utter surprise, she began to cry. What surprised Sam further was that before anyone could even react, Dean had taken a giant lunge towards her and was rubbing her back, murmuring comforting phrases into her ear.

Sam and Bobby met each other's eyes over the pair. Bobby raised his eyebrows. Sam shrugged his shoulders.

Sylvia stopped crying. _Probably more from surprise than the comforting charms of my brother_, thought Sam, and he wasn't far off the mark. Sylvia was staring at Dean with a look of utter incomprehension. Dean, on his part, was backing away from her awkwardly, looking uncomfortable.

To break the weird silence, Sam turned to Bobby, and began recounting everything that had happened since the phone call he had received from Sylvia two days ago, to Castiel's strange reaction to Adrian's name. Bobby listened intently, occasionally making a deep noise of surprise, or looking at Sylvia. Sylvia and Dean still stood away from each other, apparently both unsure of how to react to Dean's strange compassion.

When Sam had finished, Bobby looked at Dean.

"I always knew you two were freak magnets," he said. Before either Sylvia or Dean could protest, Bobby cut them off. "What have you got to add Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth, looked at Sylvia, and then shut it.

"Nothing," he said.

Sylvia glared at him, and then turned to Bobby.

"He's lying," she said with conviction.

_How can she be so sure? _Wondered Sam. He watched her carefully. She was fingering the emerald ring again, a pained look on her face. _That ring . . ._

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Dean?"

"Okay, okay," Dean glared at Sylvia again. Their happy hiatus hadn't lasted long. "I was talking to Castiel before Sylvia and Sammy came over. He was telling me . . . telling me that he couldn't sense Sylvia. Where he can usually read people's history and emotions, with Sylvia he just drew a blank. It was like she didn't exist."

Sylvia looked pale.

"But my brother," she said. "He knew my brother. Adrian."

Bobby sighed heavily.

"Sweetie, I think you ought to be very worried about your brother. If you have angels as low down the pecking order as Cas freaking out over him, then you can bet your sweet ass that something big and ugly is going down. If he weren't your twin, I would be telling you right now to get the hell out of here and pretend like there never was an Adrian Strider."

"Anyway," Dean interjected. "How can we know that Adrian is still alive?"

"I know," said Sylvia quietly. Though the bond between her and Adrian was severely weakened, she knew now that it was not gone like she had thought before. When it was very quiet, and she was very calm, she could still feel Adrian, alive somewhere. But it was a weird feeling, almost like the bond was being smothered by a pillow.

She explained as much to Bobby, Dean and Sam.

Bobby looked thoughtful.

"Hang on a second," he said. "Show me your rings."

Sylvia approached, thrusting her hand out for Bobby to see. He carefully turned each ring, feeling the texture of each.

"These are very powerful rings," he said finally. "For protection, knowledge, strength and speed," he listed, pointing to each one. His finger stopped at the golden one, engraved with an eye. "This is the one," he whispered. He could feel the power pouring off it, tangible. It covered her whole tiny body, a thick layer of . . . of what? Protection? But she had the ruby for that. He didn't know. He just knew that it was vitally important. He told them all as much.

Sylvia slipped the ring off, and held it out to Bobby. Suddenly, Bobby felt queasy. He didn't want to touch the ring.

"No, you keep it. Does it say anything?"

Sylvia inspected it, and then gasped.

"Love to Sylvia," she read for the first time. "Pro infinitio , fio infinitio. Adrian."

"What's that?" asked Dean. "Latin?"

"Yeah," said Sam. "It means 'For eternity, become eternity."

"Mean anything to you?" Dean asked Sylvia.

But Sylvia didn't answer. She was staring at the ring, her eyes wide, and her face pale. She was breathing shallowly.

"Oh my God," she said softly.


	8. Nickname

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Except for Sylvia. Who is, for the most part, mine. : ) I hope you enjoy it.**_

_**Also, a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favourite this story. It means a lot to me.**_

_**My question mark button is still defunct. **_

_The world whooshed around her as he pushed her on the swing. Higher and higher she went, the world a beautifully coloured blur around her, one that she moved through with the speed of the wind. When she came back to Earth, he was always there without fail to push her back into the sky. Suddenly, she was stopped by his hands on her shoulders. Her feet dangled down to the ground. She jumped off and turned her laughing face to him_

"_Adrian!" she yelled. "Push me again!"_

_He laughed at her faux baby voice. _

"_No way," he replied. "You're way too old and fat." He poked her playfully in the stomach. Sylvia stuck her tongue out. They were fourteen, and the world was still full of promise. Their mother and father had gone alone on a hunting trip for the first time in ages, leaving the twins to their own devices. Both were fully armed, though they looked just like any other ordinary kids in the park, laughing and fooling around. _

_Suddenly Adrian turned serious._

"_Sylvs," he said. He reached into his pocket, fumbling around until he produced what he was looking for with a flourish. It was a ring, gold and engraved with an eye. _

"_Erm. . . it's beautiful," she said, but it sounded like a question. Adrian laughed, pushing the ring onto her finger. _

"_It's more than beautiful. It's magical."_

_He said in such a childlike way that Sylvia laughed the seriousness out of the exchange, admiring the ring in the sun. But then Adrian grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to him._

"_Listen Sylvia," he whispered. "Pro infinitio, fio infinitio. For eternity, become eternity."_

"_And what's that supposed to mean?"_

_Adrian's mouth twisted into a semi smile._

"_Family legacy," he said. "One day you will find out." _

Sylvia touched the delicate letters on the inside of the ring for what had to be the fiftieth time. She had worn that ring since she was fourteen, and had never known the secret message that it had contained. She sighed with embarrassment as she recalled what had happened in Bobby's library. How she had frozen at hearing the words whispered by her brother in a park so many years ago. How her heart had started to pound painfully as Bobby told her everything he knew about the ring – its amazing, unknown power, its unfaltering strength. How she had turned and ran, just like that, ignoring Sam's shouts as she just tried her hardest to get away from all the lies and secrets she had been told her whole life.

Now, she was sitting on the boot of some random car by Bobby's house, legs swinging. She knew she would have to go in soon, but just then, she didn't want to.

Suddenly, she was aware of a presence behind her. She rolled off the car, shoving the ring into her pocket as she unsheathed her machete. Her family had often berated her for carrying such a massive knife, but it made her feel safer, especially when it became clear that she was never going to break four foot. She sheathed the machete when she saw who it was.

"Hey Dean," she said wearily, heaving herself back onto the car boot. She pulled the ring out again, hoping it would be enough to convey the message. _Leave me alone._

No such luck. Dean swung himself up next to her.

"Nice moves," he said. "I thought I had you off guard."

"That's what gets you killed," said Sylvia. She knew she was being antagonistic, but she couldn't help it.

"Oh, I know."

There were a few beats of awkward silence. Sylvia could sense that Dean was working up to say something, so she didn't disrupt it with a negative comment.

"Look, Sylvia . . .," he broke off, and then started again. "I know I've been a bit of a jerk. It's just that Sammy and I have a lot to deal with right now, and. Well and . . ."

"And I am an unnecessary amount of hard work that is stopping you from doing the more important things?"

She said it with no malice, just quiet acceptance. Dean shot her a thankful, apologetic smile.

"Yeah, exactly. But I just wanted to say sorry I guess. And also . . . well, I understand. I understand what it's like to lose a sibling. Trust me; I know how hard it can be. Not knowing where Adrian is, and what he is caught up in. And with your bond. It must be a lot harder than what I went through with Sam."

Sylvia looked up at him with sad eyes. In them, Dean could see the raw pain that not knowing about Adrian brought her. He suddenly felt horrible about how he'd treated her.

"Don't feel bad Dean," she said softly. "And I understand too if you want to pull out."

"No," said Dean quickly. "No, we're in too deep to pull out now. Besides, Sammy would kill me." He grinned. "That jerk's fallen for you hard, Sylvs."

They laughed together, and then quieted.

"Sylvs. Adrian calls me that," Sylvia said.

"Oh. Okay, I'm sorry," Dean said, trying hurriedly to correct his mistake.

Sylvia laughed, shaking her head. "No, it's fine. It's kinda nice, actually."

"Dean has a penchant for nicknaming people," said a deep voice in front of them. Sylvia looked up and met a pair of sparkling blue eyes. Castiel.

"Hey Cas," said Dean tightly. Apparently he was still grumpy about what happened at the warehouse. Castiel picked up on it too, looking confused.

"Hello Dean," he said. He nodded to Sylvia. "Hello Sylvia."

"Hey Cas," she replied.

"So," said Dean. "You gonna explain yourself?"

Castiel shook his head.

"I'm just here for the ring."

Sylvia's hand tightened compulsively around the gold ring in her hand. Dean stepped in front of her slightly.

"What ring?" he asked, playing innocent.

"The ring you are holding," Castiel replied, looking straight at Sylvia. "I am sorry, Sylvia, but it is important that the higher angels get that ring as soon as possible."

"Wait," said Dean. "The 'higher angels'? I thought you rebelled? No more answering to higher angels and all that."

Castiel sighed wearily, looking completely human for the first time since Sylvia had met him.

"Despite being a rebel angel, I am still an angel. There are things. . . powers, they have over me that I have no ability to counter," he faced Sylvia dead on, his eyes intense. "I need that ring Sylvia. You have no choice but to hand it to me."

Dean stood in front of Sylvia fully.

"Sorry Cas, but we need that ring too. There is no way we are giving it up that easily. To get it you will have to go through me."

Castiel almost smiled, looking relieved.

"I was hoping you would say that," he said. Sylvia and Dean exchanged confused glances.

Cas smiled fully.

"The only way to break the compulsion I just had to take your ring, Sylvia, was to threaten the life of Michael's vessel. There is nothing more important to any angel right now than your protection," he finished, gesturing towards Dean.

Sylvia looked confused.

"Michaels . . . vessel?" she asked Dean. Dean made a "Later" face, and turned back to Cas.

"Okay Cas," he said. "Tell us everything you know about this ring."


End file.
